


Aperture

by winterpassing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Brock Rumlow is a Dick (as always), Football Player Bucky Barnes, Friends to Lovers, Gay Steve Rogers, Jock Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Photographer Steve Rogers, Pre-war body Bucky with Winter Soldier hair, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, ballerina Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterpassing/pseuds/winterpassing
Summary: Steve Rogers is a pretty shy and awkward high schooler. He still is when he meets Bucky Barnes, but now he has a crush.Bucky Barnes sometimes gets caught in the spotlight of being popular. He nearly forgets about that spotlight after he meets Steve Rogers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it’s been a while.  
> so, school’s out which means i should be able to actively update this. honestly though, who knows what will happen.

Steve silently curses Peggy for forcing him to come out to the football field today. Leave it to her to give Steve a job that requires not only possible human interaction but watching a bunch of bulky, muscular guys running around and crashing into each other. Worst of all, Peggy knew exactly what she was getting Steve into when she assigned him to watch sweaty, possibly hot guys running around, and she had no shame about it. She just laughed at the small boy’s suffering, flashing her bright white teeth in that entrancing smile she’s had for as long as Steve has known her.

 Steve isn’t friends with too many people, but he has his little group: Peggy, Sam, and Natasha. He loves all of them dearly, but sometimes they make him want to leave New York for a winter in Vostok, Antarctica. They all just _love_ making fun of him for minuscule things. Steve knows they’re all joking, but man does it get on his nerves!

 Sports and human interaction aren’t the only terrible things involved in having to photograph the football team’s practice. Steve also has to deal with all the dickhead jocks who get a kick out of beating him around. This aspect was the one and only thing that made Peggy truly think over her decision to put Steve on this assignment. Steve is their only photographer, though, and Peggy needed pictures for the sports column this week, not just an article. Sam is over the moon about Steve getting pictures for his column because he takes his precious sports section very seriously. Steve feels the pressure. He doesn’t want to disappoint Sam or Peggy with his work. They both know, though, that there is no possible way he could do so.

 When Steve makes it out to football practice after school on a Tuesday, he’s greeted with exactly what he thought he’d find. Blaring sun and snarky jocks. He sighs and makes his way over to the team’s coach, clutching his camera to his chest.

 “Excuse me, Coach Frampton?” The coach turned around and raised his eyebrows at the small boy. “Um, my name is Steve Rogers. I was wondering if I could take some pictures of today’s practice for the sports column in the school newspaper.”

 “Ah, yes, Sam said you would be coming sometime this week. Well, feel free to take as many pictures as you’d like, but keep your distance. I’d rather not have you distracting my team.” Coach Frampton replied.

 “Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll try my hardest not to be a distraction.” The coach nodded at that and turned back to the field. Steve turned around and headed to a spot towards the far end zone. He sighed out a breath and looked across the field, his hand placed on his forehead to block out the sun. “This is gonna be a long day,” he muttered to himself.

 Steve got a couple shots of warm-ups but really started focusing once they started running plays. He was never a sporty type of guy, let alone a football fan, but he was quite interested in the hard work that went into the sport; any sport. Looking through his camera, Steve saw one player take his helmet off in between plays to rake a hand through his sweaty hair. _Number 17, Barnes._

Either the weather became too much, or Steve forgot to breathe entirely, because he suddenly broke out into a coughing fit, earning a concerned look from said player. Steve took his inhaler from his front pocket and took a couple puffs, regaining himself. The player, Barnes, cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner. Concern clouded his face and Steve almost felt guilty. Steve nodded his head and gave the player a small smile. Barnes smiled back, showing Steve his white teeth.

 Steve was snapped out of his trance when he heard a harsh, deep voice calling out. “Barnes!” Coach Frampton yelled out. The player snapped out of it as well, shaking his head and putting his helmet back on.

 “Sorry, Coach!”

 “No sorries, Barnes. Just snap out of it.” The coach turned his head to look at where Barnes was looking, only to find Steve. “Ah, Mr. Rogers! I thought I told you not to distract my team!” Steve’s head snapped towards the voice, fear flooding his body.

 “I-I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to,” Steve finished with a cough.

 “Well, you’ve been here for a while. You have got to have enough pictures,” Coach Frampton snapped. Steve opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted. “That means leave, Rogers.”

 “Y-Yes sir,” Steve muttered. He gathered his things and left the field as fast as he could, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. Needless to say, Steve was panicking. He was horrified by what would happen with Peggy and Sam.

  _I don’t have enough shots. They’re gonna fire me and find a new photographer._

 Steve’s breathing spiked once again. He leaned against the wall and slid down, trying to steady his breaths. He took his inhaler out of his pocket and took another few puffs. While it helped his breathing, he still felt like a boulder was pressing upon his chest.

 “Take a lap, Barnes!” he heard Coach Frampton yell. Steve didn’t know the football team, so he didn’t know where they ran. He most definitely wasn’t expecting Barnes to come outside the same way he had earlier. Steve squished himself against the wall tightly in an attempt to hide. He held his breath as well, but this just caused him to cough.

 The player heard the noise and turned his head over to Steve’s slouching figure. Steve turned his head away from Barnes. Barnes walked over.

 “Uh, hey,” the taller man said.

 “Hi,” Steve replied lamely. He looked down into his lap, twiddling his thumbs.

 “I’m Bucky, by the way.” The player, Bucky, has these beautiful grey eyes that had Steve fully entranced. He was an extremely attractive guy, and it had Steve feeling slightly uncomfortable.

 “Steve.”

 Bucky sent him a small smile. “How are you feeling, Steve? I saw that you needed your inhaler.”

 “Oh, yeah. Um, I’m all right, thanks. I, um, I’m sorry that I got you sent out here. I didn’t mean to be a distraction,” Steve said in a sad tone.

 “Don’t worry about it. Frampton is a dick,” Bucky said. Steve let out a chuckle and looked up at Bucky. Bucky cocked his head to the side. “You know, you look extremely familiar.”

 “Well we, uh, we’ve gone to school together since first grade,” Steve murmured.

 “No way! I couldn’t have possibly missed you,” Bucky said, exasperated.

 “I mean, I’m pretty small, always have been. And I miss school pretty often,” said Steve. “I, uh, I’m pretty easy to miss.” Steve shot Bucky a sad smile. Bucky pouted back.

 “Well, I’ll make sure not to miss you again,” Bucky said. He put a hand out to lift Steve up off the ground, and Steve raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Up and at ‘em. No one wants to be around Frampton for too long.”

 “I don’t want you to get kicked off the team if you leave,” Steve stammered, grabbing Bucky’s hand and hoisting himself up. His hand was warm, and a lot larger than his own.

 “Oh, I won't be. Frampton kind of needs me. Don't worry about it," Bucky said with a shrug

 "Are you sure?" Steve asked.

 Bucky nodded and said, "Yeah, seriously. Well, um, I’m probably really sweaty and gross right now, so I’m gonna go hit the showers. I’ll see you around?”

 "Yeah, see you around." Steve watched as Bucky walked off to the locker rooms, and then headed home himself. It wasn’t too far of a walk, 30 minutes tops. Steve would normally grab a ride with Natasha or Clint, but he didn’t want to keep them at school for any longer than necessary.

 By the time he got home, it was roughly 6:45, and he was beat. The heat and more-than-normal exertion were messing with his body, and all he wanted to do was take a long, long nap.

 He had work to do, though. Steve grabbed his laptop from its place on his desk and settled into his bed. He took his camera from the bag that he previously set down, plugged it in, and loaded the pictures onto his computer. They weren’t bad shots, but Steve still wasn’t happy with the amount he had to choose from.

 His mind led back to Bucky. His eyes, his hair, how sweet and nice he was to Steve outside of the field. Everyone knew who Bucky was. Everyone except for Steve, apparently. Of course, he was aware that he had gone to school with this boy since the first grade, but he wasn’t aware that it was Bucky.  _The_ Bucky Barnes. Steve was seriously out of the loop.

 He came across a photo that he really liked when he was searching through his shots. It was a picture of the football spiraling through the air, aiming to land in someone’s hands. He zoomed in to look at the number on the jersey of the player catching the ball. He was met, not surprisingly, with the number 17, Bucky's number. Steve sighed but proceeded anyway. Pulling up Lightroom, he loaded the image up into the software and got to work. He played around with settings until he got what he wanted.

 He ended with something that really focused in on Bucky’s figure, bringing out the colors in his jersey but not quite losing the greens of the grass and blues in the sky in the background. Steve knew he didn't need to go too overboard with making everything look perfect, but he didn’t want to disappoint Sam or Peggy.

 By the time he was done and had multiple shots edited (just in case they weren't good enough,) Steve emailed the pictures to Peggy and shot her a text that he had sent them.

Steve finished his homework as quickly as possible and ended up studying for his physics exam until he couldn't keep his eyes open. He fell asleep in his clothes from school that day with papers scattered around him and dreamt of long, brown hair and a bright white smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month's newspaper gets published and Brock stirs up conflict with Sam.

Sam and Peggy absolutely loved the pictures that Steve sent. They thought that they perfectly captured the image in Sam’s head, and would go great with the article. That month’s issue had been edited and printed by the first week, and they sold more copies than ever before. 

”I guess that your picture really caught some eyes, Steve. We’ve never sold this many copies before, ” said Sam, turning to Steve at his locker. 

”Nah, it was all you,” Steve shook his head. ”No one would buy the paper just for the picture. They want to hear about the football team, and what’s better than reading it from the best future-sports journalist this school has ever seen?” 

”Oh, shut up, Steve.” Sam closes his locker and adjusts the strap on his backpack. ”Well, I gotta go. I’ll see you at lunch.”

”Yeah, see you.” Steve closes his locker and turns to go to his third-period class. As he walks down the crowded hallway, he hears rapid steps coming towards him.

”Hey, Steve!” Bucky says, now walking next to the blonde. ”I, uh, I saw your picture in the newspaper. It looks really good.”

”Oh! Uh, thanks Bucky.” Steve feels his face heat up. he's pretty surprised to see Bucky walk up to him, but he isn’t complaining. 

”Do you always do the photography for the newspaper?”

”Yup. Every month.” Steve also isn’t surprised that Bucky doesn’t know much about the newspaper. Not many people do anyway, but it's no doubt someone as busy as Bucky wouldn’t have a single clue. 

”Wow. I’m gonna be completely honest with ya, Steve, I didn’t even really know there was a school newspaper. I’ll make sure to pick one up every month now that I know.” Bucky smiled towards Steve and Steve melted a little. “Where are you headed?”

“Pre-calc with Polley. You?” Their conversation hadn’t carried them all that far. With the cramped hallways, things moved fairly slow. 

“French,” Bucky replied. By then, they had made it to the point where they had to part ways and go to their respective hallways. “Well, I’ll see you around, yeah?” Steve almost didn’t want to go. They hadn’t even talked for that long, but Bucky almost made him forget the fact that he was at school. 

He remembered, though, quite soon after. He was jolted back into reality by somebody slamming into his shoulder. Steve fell onto the ground, dropping his books. 

“Better watch where you’re fucking going, blondie.” It was Brock Rumlow. 

Steve did not like Brock Rumlow. 

Ever since the second grade, when Brock’s “girlfriend” had Steve break up with him for her, he had been Steve’s worst nightmare. First, it was scratching and teasing Steve about his size, but that developed into being put into lockers in middle school and just general terribleness. 

He had gotten a break for a while. Brock kind of forgot Steve existed, praise the lord, because of high school, but it seems he’s remembered. 

Brock and his band of dickheads sauntered off laughing down the hallway and Steve sighed. Picking up his books, he stood up and walked to his class. 

-

Sam hadn’t been at practice on the day Steve went to take his pictures because of his little sister’s dance recital. Today, however, he was. 

Sam liked most of his team but mostly stuck with Riley, Clint, and Rhodey. He desperately tried to avoid the “popular” players of the team, consisting of Rumlow, Zemo, and Barnes. He could tell they were all rude just by the presence they gave off, but they all seemed to fall under the wing of Rumlow. 

Brock was the unofficial team captain. Coach Frampton didn’t like assigning an official captain, but he played favorites, and Rumlow didn’t mind being in the spotlight at all. He was a monster on the field. Titled as the best offensive-tackle in New York high school football, Rumlow has literally sent multiple players to the hospital because he plays so dirty. He’ll do anything to win. 

The rest of the team, however, doesn’t care as much. Of course, they’re dedicated to the sport and their team, but they actually find Frampton and Rumlow’s obsession with winning slightly insane. 

The team was in the locker room getting ready for their upcoming practice. The first game was next Friday, which meant  Frampton was going to be pushing them especially hard up until then. No distractions allowed. 

Sam was distracted already, though. All he could hear behind him was Rumlow going on and on about “that annoying blonde kid.” At first, Sam had no idea who he was talking about until he heard the name Rogers. 

“The dumbass just walked right into me! I’m surprised he didn’t blow away when he did. It’s a shame he didn’t,” Brock spat. 

Bucky looked up from his duffel bag with a disgusted look on his face, which Sam missed when he spun around to face Brock. 

“The fuck did you just say, Rumlow?” Sam asked with a snarl. 

“Huh?” Brock turned away from Zemo and a few other of his friends with a dumb look on his face. 

“You heard me, Brock. What the hell did you just say about Steve?” Sam was beyond pissed. They could say all they wanted about him, but if anyone said a single thing about one of his friends, he’d have a few words. 

“Oh, blondie?” Brock chuckled. “I said he should make like the wind and blow away,” he stated, making an imitation of leaves blowing in the wind with his hands. 

“And why the hell is that, huh? What’d he ever do to you?” Sam clenched and unclenched his fists. 

“What does it matter what he did? Maybe he didn’t do anything. Maybe I just think he should do us all a favor and drop out of school.”

“Brock,” Bucky said softly, in a scolding tone. 

“If he didn’t do anything, then why can’t you just leave him alone?” Sam took a step closer to Rumlow. 

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“Brock,” Bucky said insistently, slightly louder than before. 

“Because he’s my friend, you asshole!” Brock had a couple inches on Sam, so he had to look up slightly when he got into his face. 

“Why the hell would you be friends with scum like that, Wilson? I think I just lost even more respect for you,” Brock snarled. Sam took a step back and got ready to swing. “Oh, would you look at that. The little black kid is getting ready to fight me!” 

"Oh, you've got it fucking coming for you Rumlow!" Sam snarled.

"Try me!"

“Brock!” Bucky snapped. Sam and Rumlow both looked up. “Will you knock it off already! Stop acting like you’re everyone’s superior! You’re fucking not! You aren’t worth more than all the rest of us. In fact, you’re worth even less just for being a fucking dick all the time. Just because Frampton prefers you to everyone else doesn’t mean you can push us and everyone else at this school around like we’re litter on the side of the highway. We’re human fucking beings.” Bucky’s fists were clenched and he was breathing heavy.

No one had any words. The entire locker room was silent, save for the buzz of the air conditioning filling the room with too cold air. 

“God,” Bucky scoffed before turning, grabbing his bag and leaving the locker room. He took the emergency exit, leading to a wooded clearing behind the stadium. He walked over to a tree and took a seat, leaning up against it. Putting his head in his hands, Bucky let out a sigh. “There goes all of my friends.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Sam had followed soon after Bucky left. Bucky’s head snapped up in confusion at the intruding voice. “Thanks for, uh, sticking up for me back there.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had enough of his shit.” 

“Seriously, though. Anyone talking crap about Steve—any of my friends, really—gets me really worked up, and you stopped the fight before it really happened.” Sam looked off into the woods. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I thought you were just like them,” Sam let out after a few minutes of silence. “Real glad to find out you’re not.”

“I don’t know if I could live with myself if I were like them. I don’t even know how I’ve lasted this long hanging out with them. If anything, I should be thanking you for finally getting me to let all of that out. It’s about time he gets his wake up call,” Bucky looks up at Sam with a small smile on his face. Sam smiles back. “So, you’re, uh, you’re friends with Steve?”

“Yeah. You know him?” Sam replies. 

“We met when he was taking pictures for the newspaper. Nice guy.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Sam agrees. He lets out a contented sigh as he looks off into the trees again, closing his eyes as the wind brushes against him. 

They sit in companionable silence for a few more minutes before Sam gets up and extends his hand. 

“Come on, Barnes. We better go before Frampton realizes we’re gone and sends a search party after us.” Bucky grabs onto his hand and lifts himself up, smiling to himself. They walk off of school property and part ways when they get to their respective streets. 

“So, I’ll see you at lunch with us tomorrow, yeah?” Sam inquired. 

“Sure. I’ll be there,” Bucky replied. 

- 

 “What do you mean Barnes is gone again?” Coach Frampton‘s voice booms throughout the stadium, notifying people of his presence even all the way across the field.  

 “He just left the locker room while we were all getting ready, sir. Wilson went with him,” Brock said with an innocent tint to his voice.  

 “Wilson, huh? First that little Rogers boy, and now him. I thought he was hanging out with you and Zemo, hanging out with the right crowd.” Frampton shakes his head.  

 “I guess not anymore, sir.” Brock turned his head and looked across the field to Zemo and sent him a sly smile. Zemo nodded at him and exchanged the smile back. “Yeah, not anymore.”  

**Author's Note:**

> sorry that it's a little short! i'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.


End file.
